


Count On Me

by gaarasgurl666



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Gorillaz - Freeform, Multi, Reader-Insert, Romance, reader - Freeform, you - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 02:01:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10709823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaarasgurl666/pseuds/gaarasgurl666
Summary: You can count on me like one two threeI'll be thereAnd I know when I need it I can count on you like four three twoYou'll be thereBased on Count On Me by Bruno Mars.





	Count On Me

**Author's Note:**

> Also on my blog, gorillazimagines on tumblr!

Russel is a good boyfriend.

He didn’t mean to sound cocky about it, and he wasn’t trying to brag, but he liked to think positively about the things he knew he did well. He was considerate, open, honest, and always willing to talk. But the best thing about him was that he was always improving, always adapting, and that’s what made him such a good partner to have. It may sound self-centered, calling himself a good boyfriend, but when you got into a new relationship, you wanted to showcase the traits you were most confident in.

You knew Russel was a good boyfriend because he was your current boyfriend, and in your opinion, the best you’d ever had. His advice always seemed well-thought on, delivered in a way that wasn’t condescending; he never liked to make you feel stupid about mistakes you made. He might not often talk much, but when he did, it always had an impact. He knew how to be a solid figure in your life, your rock as you liked to call him, sometimes thinking he may be the only reason you’re still sane with all that happens in the world.

He can always sense when somethings wrong.

He checks his phone a few times and sees that you still haven’t texted him back; you had always been prompt with responses, not to mention you didn’t work that day, so what could’ve happened? He doesn’t take offense to it nor does he overreact, deciding to wait another hour or two before he calls you to check up on you.

When he calls, he can hear it in your voice; you were having a bad. The type of bad day where it felt impossible to get out of bed, even to eat or go to the bathroom. You had probably been lying in bed all day in the dark, your thoughts entrapping you in a nightmare that you felt you couldn’t escape from. You apologize to him for not responding to your text but his voice is gentle when he tells you to not worry about it, and to simply take care of yourself. It was clear you didn’t have much energy left in you, especially since the phone call lasted a mere half an hour with him, the normally quiet, man of few words, doing most of the talking.

He doesn’t know what to do about it; what would the best thing for you to be? To let you have this day to yourself, to let you recharge your batteries alone in your room? He wanted to think that perhaps that was the best answer but… he didn’t know if you’d eaten yet, or if you’d gone to the bathroom, or if you’d taken care of yourself at all. He was sure the answer was no, and that worried him; he didn’t want to just leave you like that even if he was the one who had to bring you the food or carry you into the bathroom. He didn’t like to just sit and do nothing.

Another hour later he’s knocking on your door, hoping you’ll find the energy to answer. It takes a bit longer than it normally does but he’s eternally patient, waiting for you to open the door and chuckling under his breath at your surprised expression. Your hair is a mess and you haven’t changed out of your pajamas but Russel doesn’t care; he hands you the fresh, bright flowers he’d bought from his favorite flower shop and compares their beauty to yours. He holds up your favorite movie and waves it in the air, an invitation to have a nice, low-key date in your house.

You nod your head and let him through the door, bringing him to the safe haven you’d holed up in all day.

“Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess.” You try to flatten your messy hair but Russel still doesn’t say anything, rearranging your bed to have the pillows form a comfy backdrop for him to lean against. He pops the movie into the DVD player in your room and turns on the TV before making himself a spot on your bed.

“Come here.” You listen to him without complaint, flopping down on the bed beside him. He moves you up so that you’re leaning on him, using his arm as a pillow to lay against and entwining your fingers with his.

“I had a bad day…”

“Don’t we all.” He leans over to kiss your forehead. “I came in hopes of making it better.”

“It already is, Russ. Thank you.”

You really could always count on him.


End file.
